


Dead Men Tell Tales

by Madrigal_in_training



Category: One Piece
Genre: ASL Brothers, Badass Monkey D. Luffy, Crew as Family, Different Devil Fruit Monkey D. Luffy, F/M, Female Monkey D. Luffy, M/M, Nakamaship, Portgas D. Ace Lives, Smart Monkey D. Luffy, Voice of All Things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-03-27 14:11:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13882524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madrigal_in_training/pseuds/Madrigal_in_training
Summary: For Monkey D. Lucillia, the Voice of All Things was more a curse than a blessing. Wherein a murder is committed, Lucillia is less than innocent, Sabo is more than jaded and Ace would burn the world down for the people he loves. fem!Luffy, Darker!Luffy, ASL, different DF!Luffy, Ace x Sabo x Luffy





	1. Chapter 1

Dead Men Tell Tales

 

_ For Monkey D. Lucillia, the Voice of All Things was more a curse than a blessing. Wherein a murder is committed, Lucillia is less than innocent, Sabo is more than jaded and Ace would burn the world down for the people he loves. fem!Luffy, Darker!Luffy, ASL, different DF!Luffy _

 

x

 

Monkey D. Lucillia was born with particularly keen ears.

 

Others may have disputed this as the dark-haired, dark-eyed toddler seemed deaf to their words. Her name had to be called several times, with voices that ranged from exasperated to sympathetic, to draw a wide, luminous stare. Those eyes were glassy more often than not, attention drawn within to where others could not venture, or cast off blankly to the side, as though focused on words unspoken. She was a melancholy child, people spoke in hushed whispers, and a peculiarly quiet one. A little slow, rarely able to focus on the world around her. A little strange, hardly malicious, of course but certainly not a  _ normal _ child.

 

They spoke in whispers for Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp did not approve of such observations. And as his opinions were made known through fists in the wall, people were of the silent unanimity that none were to challenge him on the subject. There wasn’t any need to. Lucillia was a figure of compassion more than ridicule, an orphan of unknown origin with assuredly weak mental facilities, and Foosha Village was proud of its acceptance of her. Had the residents been aware that their pity was even less acceptable to Garp than their scorn, they would perhaps have been less generous in offering it.

 

As it was, Monkey D. Garp didn’t hold with that nonsense that his only granddaughter was limited in any way. He had been the one to raise her for the first two years of her life, finally spending that backlog of vacation time in a full sweep that had Sengoku pulling out his hair, and he knew that she was perfectly healthy. His cute little Celia was quieter than other babies, true, but that hardly meant she was mute or simple. As an infant, she would wail her lungs out if the bottle wasn’t readied in time. Now she rarely babbled but would insistently tug on his sleeve in silent rebuke should he try to hurry bedtime stories along by skipping a page or two. Her words were softly-spoken but enunciated well. Her eyes distant at times but bright and curious when he answered a question. Her mannerisms shy and reserved- an anomaly in the Monkey family- but a deviation he was inclined to forgive. Celia was his gentle, sweet-natured granddaughter and Garp couldn’t have loved her more if he’d tried.

 

It was an affection wholly returned, partly for a more selfish reason than a toddler could articulate. There was a curious quirk to her inheritance that dimmed its abilities around figures of import. The Will of D in particular tended to draw all its focus as a lightning rod in a storm, with all other voices falling to a murmur. In a world where everyone and everything clamored to be heard, her Gramps-  _ safe, strong, kin- _ made the voices in her head go away. 

 

Monkey D. Garp thought Lucillia a normal and healthy child because around him, she could  _ be _ normal. Around him, the Voice of All Things echoed his presence in favor of the world around them. She didn’t hear the throngs of dead clamoring for her attention, the wind whispering facts and figures that made no sense to her or the animals scurrying about in their own secret world. They fell to a murmur, an incomprehensible buzz at the back of her head that, in expertise borne of necessity, Lucillia ignored. She could close her eyes and fall to a fitful sleep in a land of dreams that was almost her own. She could stagger through the day without having to fight for any scrap of focus to the world around her. She could absorb the hundred little kindnesses of the everyday instead of the massive tidal wave of cruelty and atrocity that the clouds warned her of. She could laugh and breathe and rest and  _ live.  _

 

And sometimes… sometimes, Lucillia almost felt normal.

 

She loved her Gramps because even as a toddler, her mind recognized him as her shield. And when that shield was called back to Marineford, bawling wildly at the harbor as his right hand man, Bogard, patiently pried a child from his arms, she was inconsolable. As was he, but as a toddler, Celia was far cuter when she cried. She was also far less able to express the main source of her plight. When Garp sailed away, the voices came back.

 

x 

 

“Makino-san, Lucy’s having one of her… one of her  _ episodes. _ ”

 

The dark-haired woman looked up when her name was mentioned, pasting a tired smile on her face, as she nodded to one of the regulars. “Thank you, Torimo. I’ll be there in a moment.”

 

She placed the wet dishrag on the bar, wiped her hands on the apron and moved the thick mugs of foamy ale from the side of the table, where curious hands couldn’t reach. At this time of the day, the Partys Bar was open more for families then local men, woodchoppers, fishermen, farmers and others hoping to relax with a pint of ale and good company. Makino had allowed her pseudo-little sister to come down and color here for precisely that reason and because it became unbearably lonely to stay in the house as she worked.

 

_ ‘I had hoped today would be a good day.’ _ It had been a wonderful morning. Lucillia woke up with a smile and insisted that she dress herself in a soft pink sundress and summer hat wrapped around with a pink ribbon. She had finished her breakfast without fuss and only folded into herself a little bit when entering the bar, choosing a secluded, cool area near the back to set up her crayons. ‘ _ She almost lasted until lunch time too. _ ’

 

That was progress and Makino clinged to it as she made her way to the back of the room, purposefully deafening herself to the occasional whisper of her patrons. When she saw that the dark-haired child had fallen into one of those silent fits rather than a screaming one, the barmaid took that as another blessing too and refused to let her smile waver. Lucillia had set her crayons up near the edge of the table but had moved further along the bench, huddled against the wall, legs up and head buried like some particularly stubborn clam, tufts of raven hair still sticking out. Her hat had fallen off to the side and her fingers were curled into claws and digging into the soft flesh of her arm. Makino’s practiced eyes catalogued the lack of blood or trembling and uncoiled tension, even as she bent down near her. 

 

“Lucillia? Lucy, it’s me, Makino,” the barmaid said softly. “Are you there?”

 

A whisper of a grunt reached her ears, the legs somehow pressing closer against her chest, elbows akew and knobby in childhood. “Can you come out?”

 

Lucy shook her head violently, shuddering a bit and pressing back. The wall was behind her though and it didn’t move the little girl any further. Makino reached out a hand, encouraged when she rested it on the dark-haired child’s arm and didn’t receive a flinch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

 

Her little sister looked up, luminous eyes glassy and distant for a heartbeat before they focused on Makino’s. They were covered in a sheen of wetness. “Too loud.”

 

“The bar?” This was answered by another fierce shake of the head. “Do you want to go home?”

 

Lucillia glanced forlornly at her crayons. Her fingers uncurled and for a moment, Makino hoped that the episode ended there. Then the little girl gave a start, as though a flash of thunder skittered down her spine, and clapped her hands quickly against her ears. “The wind keeps talking!”

 

_ ‘What does she _ mean _ by that?’ _ There was a tightness to Makino’s chest as she swallowed down her question. It  _ hurt _ to see the child she’d half-raised, more or less a younger sister to her, in this much pain and be unable to do anything about it. “Alright, Lucy. Will it stop hurting if we go home?”

 

“Dunno.” Lucy clenched her eyes tightly and fell quiet. Makino took that as permission enough to gently pull her away from the walls and into her arms, her tiny nose digging into the woman’s collarbone, as she collected the child’s affects. There was a fuzzy backpack with a cute monkey face on it, an early gift from Garp, opened and easily able to sweep the crayons into, a finished juice box that she’d dispose of later, and her hat, which Makino placed carefully into the backpack. There wasn’t any way to be rid of Lucy’s fits entirely and no understanding of where they came from, but from painful trial and error, Makino had learnt to avoid several means to trigger them.

 

Extreme temperatures in either direction. Too many people. Loud noises. Too much sunlight. Fast movement. There were so many things that Lucy flinched away from in this world.

 

“I’ll be out of the bar for a bit. No one cause any trouble,” Makino said sternly, focusing a sharp glance on one or two potential troublemakers. The regulars nodded, already well-used to this tradition and sent pitying glances to the dark-haired child burying her face in Makino’s shoulder. “Come on, Lucy.”

 

As the young woman led the child back to the soothing and dark confines of Garp’s house, the only three-story residence in the village, near the outskirts in prime beach land, she considered the child in her arms. Makino had been hired to work part-time as Lucillia’s caretaker since the Vice-Admiral used up his vacation time in the first two years of her life. It had been three years since then and while raising Lucillia hadn’t exactly been without difficulties, it had been pleasant. 

 

Lucillia was an easy child to love. Docile, bright, sweet-natured and affectionate, as clever as any parent could hope for and not in the least bit simple, no matter what others may say. While Makino had had to deal with fits, silent and screaming by turns, occasional strains of muteness or deafness, and Celia’s admittedly fragile mental health, she’d never have anything bad to say about her healthy appetite and strong immune system. Celia was rarely physically ill and would have been the type of child to run around freely and happily, if not for the crippling headaches she got outside. Instead she immersed herself in the next best thing to her own adventures: stories. Whether it was to write, read or illustrate them, Lucillia loved to delve into worlds of fantasy and adventure, where all the good guys won and bad guys lost, where there were islands in the sky and deep within the oceans and where people were strong enough to change the world if they merely willed it. 

 

_ ‘And she has such an imagination! _ ’ Makino smiled at the memory of their last bedtime story. After age four, right around the time she got a decent grasp of her vocabulary, Lucillia had declared that  _ she  _ would be the one to tell stories to her older sister. They were always rather more fantastic than anything Makino had read so far and the barmaid enjoyed listening to them. The last one had been about an evil pirate with a lion’s mane, that could float his ship high in the air, who tried to take over islands and lost to a hero pirate in a straw hat. 

 

_ ‘He had a curly mustache too! _ ’ Lucillia had declared, with all of the certainty of a master storyteller,  _ ‘And heavy eyebrows and a big grin. And he wore a hat like me!’ _

 

Lucy had been quite taken with the hat, pestering Makino into buying her a number of strawhats with ribbons in all colors of the rainbow, to be like her unknown hero. When her older sister had asked what the hero’s name was, she had been greeted with a confused (and admittedly cute) twitch of Lucy’s nose. ‘ _ I don’t know! The wind won’t tell me!’ _

 

_ ‘The wind won’t tell me!’ _

 

_ ‘The wind said so.’ _

 

_ ‘I don’t think the wind meant that…’ _

 

_ ‘Why won’t the wind stop?’ _

 

_ ‘Where did the wind go?’ _

 

And many variations of this had become common in the last year, as Lucy’s fits increased in occurence and decreased in severity. Makino didn’t know why her sister’s particular madness centered around the wind but regardless, she was more concerned about the fits they brought. That Lucillia was starting to more quickly adapt and recover from them was heartening but the barmaid wondered if she should be concerned by how much more often they were coming. 

 

As she walked down the sandy path back to Garp’s home, Makino was momentarily startled when Lucy pulled back from her, luminously dark eyes looking up at the sky. The older woman stopped, curious when her little sister tipped her head back down and rested it on her shoulder. “Lucy?”

 

“It’s nothin’, nee-chan.” There was a smile against her shoulder. “The wind says change is coming.”

 

While the words themselves were innocuous, Makino still shivered. There was something… absolute in how her sister said so. As certain as when she was relating one of those stories of her. “Let’s hope it’s a good change then, okay?”

 

“Okay, nee-chan.”

 

x


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 

_ ‘It’s not moving any further…’  _

 

“Lucy.”

 

_ ‘...ten people died when the ceiling collapsed…’  _

 

“Lucy,” the soft, clear voice continued. “Lucy, can you hear me?”

 

_ ‘Will you be late for dinner, dear?’ _

 

“Raise your hands, Lucy, you need to put this shirt on.” Makino’s agate brown eyes were unerringly trained on hers, a scrap of fabric dangled loosely on her wrist. “Would you like a hat today?”

 

_ ‘...water gushes down… silver-finned tuna… dinner caught… full mouth, happy…’ _

 

Lucy tucked her head down in an approximation of a nod. 

 

_ ‘Found them skipping classes and smoking by the fountain, Sir.’ _

 

She slipped her feet into the straw sandals, eyes open but distant, as Makino-nee took her hand.

 

_ ‘Tick-tock, goes the clicking clock, when will it end, we do not know-’ _

 

The sunlight made her smile brightly first, a sharp flutter of eyelashes as she adjusted to the glare.

 

_ ‘Vice-Admiral Onigumo, are my orders clear?’ _

 

“Lucy, can you hear me?”

The dark-haired girl raised a slim finger to a cupid’s bow mouth, a request for silence, as she nudged her head to the side. But the whisper had fleeted as quickly as it came, and Lucy pouted, as the words turned to an unbalanced melody and the chitters of an unknown beast searching for dinner. 

 

“Heard Gramps,” she mumbled under breath. “Home soon, nee-chan?”

 

“Not yet, Lucy. Your grandfather is still busy on the Grand Line,” Makino answered patiently. An excited smile crossed her lips, as she looked down. “He should be done with his mission soon though! Then he’ll come home. That’ll be fun, ne?”

 

‘ _ Forty million beri for this one! Hard worker, young, still of breeding age, from the Mokomo Dukedom!’  _

 

Lucillia winced at the shout, greedy and grasping, echoing in her skull.  _ Bad.  _ That was a  _ bad _ voice.

 

“Lucy? Do you want me to carry you?”

 

She shook her head. She wanted to walk now. 

 

“Want Gramps home soon,” Lucy stated sulkily. Garp promised to be here earlier. He gave a reason over the snail but there were loud explosions in her ears then and she couldn’t hear him. “Fish.”

 

“Did he promise to take you out fishing?”

 

Lucy nodded. For Sea King meat. She wanted to get her hands on that stupid Lord of the Coast. He kept her up for a week straight whining about wanting a mate. What the hells was a mate? 

 

“Nee-chan, what’s a mate?”

 

Makino-nee gave her a strange look at that word but didn’t halt in her walking, so Lucy didn’t stop trailing her. She was careful to step around any of the little wildflowers growing by the dirt road, the sunshine yellow dandelions chorused a happy morning to her and then return to basking in the sun. There was a popping sound like fireworks in her ear, then someone named ‘Cracker’ shouting about his biscuits. Her stomach grumbled. Lucy wanted biscuits now.

 

“A mate is another word for friend.”

 

The Lord of the Coast wanted a friend? Oh. She felt bad about wanting to eat him now. Lucy would cry too if she didn’t have a friend.

 

“Nee-chan, friend?”

 

“Yes, Lucy, I’m your friend.”

 

Luckily, she didn’t have to worry about that. 

 

“Biscuits?” The wind ruffled her hair as it swept by, revealing tiny golden studs on her ears. They were a gift from Makino-nee for her fifth birthday and the weight was a familiar focus for when her head felt muddled. So too was the beaded bracelet around her wrist and the brims of her straw hats, squeezed so often in her fits that the straw had buckled and unraveled more than once. 

 

“Are you hungry already? We just had breakfast!”

 

Lucy peeked up forlornly. “Cracker’s fault.”

 

Makino sighed but she didn’t look too upset. “I’ll set up a plate of crackers at the bar then.”

 

A burst of happiness popped in her chest, spreading warmth out. Laughter, the kind that was loud and unapologetic and kind, sprang up in the air around her, and she was so enamored by the unbounded mirth that she didn’t even notice when they entered the village line. Whispers, heartbreaks, triumphs, failures, petty grudges… all ping-ponged across her head, a hundred little bouncing balls that made swift ringing chimes. It was overshadowed by the laughter though and the sense of adventure and anticipation that suddenly filled her to the brim and made her want to  _ jump _ and  _ run _ and  _ shout _ .

 

_ ‘Yo-hohoho, yo-hohoho, yo-hohoho, yo-hohoho’ _

 

There was a book about wizards in her backpack and her nee-chan had just promised her crackers but Lucy wasn’t interested in that anymore. She didn’t care either that moving too much lapsed her concentration, letting the thrum of voices move from a loud din to a deafening scream. Lucillia wanted to  _ move. _

 

‘ _ Gather up all of the crew. It’s time to ship out Bink’s Brew’ _

 

Lucy wrenched her hand away from her older sister’s grasp. There was a heartbeat where she looked at Makino-nee, dark green hair pulled up in a handkerchief, eyes filled with surprise, mouth open against the blue sky backdrop, and the dark-haired child laughed. “Nee-chan! You can’t catch me!”

 

‘ _ Sea wind blows, to where, who knows? The waves will be our guide.’ _

 

The Monkey girl turned and  _ ran _ . Her feet practically flew across the landscape, backpack swinging wildly with her, as she slipped past stunned spectators, heading unerringly towards the sound of laughter distant in the air. People, houses, trees, rocks, even the beach sand became a blur of colors, the sounds that she had feared only dimmed in response to the reckless action. There was that same airy lightheadedness, that certainty of accomplishing anything she set her mind to, wanderlust, determination, a marvel to her sights and senses, as she ran. It was unfamiliar. It was  _ incredible _ .

 

_ ‘O’er across the ocean’s tide, rays of sunshine far and wide.’ _

 

It wasn’t hurting her! Her strawhat nearly flew off disheveled black locks but one hand kept it down.

 

_ ‘Birds they sing, of cheerful things, in circles passing by.’ _

 

Lucy could hear shouting behind her but in her glee, the young girl merely laughed it off in abandon.

 

_ ‘Bid farewell to weaver’s town, Say so long to port renowned.’ _

 

The laughter was growing louder, joined now by the squawk of seagulls and water rushing by. She broke through the treeline, past the village, down the rocky incline.

 

_ ‘Sing a song. It won’t be long, before we’re casting off.’ _

Lucy hadn’t ever been allowed here before. None of the children of the village were, it was considered too dangerous. But why? It was easy!

 

_ ‘Cross the gold and silver seas, a salty spray puts us at ease.’ _

 

Her sandals jumped from one loose boulder to another unerringly, separate voices piping up now, to tell her to move left or leap right, and not lose her footing.

 

_ ‘Day and night, to our delight, the voyage never ends.’ _

 

There was a ship on the coast! A real, live pirate ship, not at all like the dinky fishing vessels from their village!

_ ‘Gather up all of the crew, it’s time to ship out Bink’s Brew.’ _

 

It even had a pirate flag! There was a black one with the skull and crossbones, a red stripe across a jokester’s eye and twin-crossed swords with red handles.  

 

_ ‘Pirates we eternally are challenging the sea!’ _

 

The pirates were in the process of putting down their anchor, looks of surprise crossing their faces as Lucy skidded to a stop. There was a noise akin to rushing water in her ears as her pursuers caught up to her, Makino-nee hurriedly pulling the dark-haired girl into her arms before the Mayor could swing his walking stick. Pulled safely behind a familiar apron and dress, Lucy ignored all of the shouting around her, to stick her head out. 

 

All of the voices, the ones in the wind and from all around her, dimmed to near silence when a man with hair as red as blood and eyes as kind as Makino-nee’s stepped forward. There was a presence about him, one that reminded her of Gramps, and another one, like a cloak around his shoulders. Not him but… older. He had a straw hat too.

 

A voice stronger than anything she’d ever heard before almost reverbated the bones in her body as they echoed past her. Not into her ear or by her side, but burrowing deeply enough to reach her soul.

 

_ ‘My successor. I’ve found you at last.’ _

 

Lucy blinked. Everything looked kind of dark. That was her last thought before she toppled over, fully unconscious for the first time in her life.

 

x


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 

“I know you’re a charmer, Captain, but that’s a new record.” Yassop motioned to the dark-haired girl that had all but swooned into his arms. Mostly because Shanks had thoughtlessly pushed the Mayor out of the way to catch her when the child’s owlishly wide, ink-toned eyes fell into a scrunched grimace and her tiny slip of a body began to sway. “Is she hurt?”

 

“I don’t know.” Shanks tried to smile reassuringly at the pretty villager that fearlessly rushed up to the group of pirates, hands fluttering anxiously over the girl’s anxious form, as she demanded that the fainted child be handed over. Taking another look, the Grand Line pirate noted exceptionally pale skin, dark hair in disarray, a straw hat (with a red ribbon too, fancy that) verged to fall and the round-cheeked adorableness held by only the truly young. “Here you go. I hope she’s alright?”

 

_ ‘This must happen often.’ _ The villager’s hands were practiced as she cradled the child to her chest with one arm, the other swiftly pulling bangs back to check on her forehead. Fingers brushed through her temples too, skimmed down her cheek and a brief glance by sharp eyes determined that no bruises were present. When it was done, the green-haired woman took several steps back from the pirates, offering a polite but tense smile. 

 

“She’ll be fine, thank you.” With those words, the woman took one last curious glance around- Shanks didn’t detect any hostility in her expression- then turned and headed back up the path, the fainted child resting her head on a ready shoulder. Pushing the matter from his mind, the red-haired pirate started into the strident (on the Mayor’s part) discussion over whether or not his men could restock and rest on this island.

 

An hour later and he was sitting amidst a rowdy bunch in a well-cleaned bar, a mug of ale in hand from the pretty barmaid. She had an almost beaming smile now as she flitted around, filling mugs, laughing at their jokes and bringing out platters of delicious ox meat from the kitchens. Shanks held out his mug when she came by for a refill and took the opportunity to answer his questions. 

 

“Akagami Shanks, Captain of the Red-Haired Pirates,” Shanks introduced easily, not surprised when she didn’t recognize him. His reputation was growing in the first half of the Grand Line but several of his most recent crewmates needed a few months of training in the calmest of the Four Blues, the one kept peaceful almost solely through Garp the Fist’s reputation. They hadn’t done anything yet to garner attention from the local populace.

 

“Satoru Makino.” The attractive barmaid smiled back, deftly filling his empty glass and then raising a nearby plate with barbecued beef, a questioning look present. He nodded and accepted the plate. 

 

“Makino-san, is your-” She didn’t look old enough to be a mother but they did start families earlier in quiet little villages like this, didn’t they? “-Sister fine?” 

 

There was a flash of teeth as a sincere grin appeared. “Lucy’s sleeping right now!”

 

Odd thing to be so exuberant about but maybe the child was a terror when she was awake? This was the first time he’d had a welcoming party greet him after all, much less one led by a pint-sized, wide-eyed, sun-allergic little girl. “Okay?”

 

“Lucy has trouble sleeping,” Makino elaborated. “I’m glad that she’s getting her rest now.”

 

“Ah.” Shanks brought the sun-baked clay mug up to his mouth and took a swig, putting the child entirely out of his mind. The rest of the day was spent in festivities and plotting to restock their ship. They left later in the day, the locales waving them off, and headed off for the next route in their training adventure. Shanks kept the little village in mind though. It’s not often that the Red-Haired Pirates found such a good watering hole in East Blue, much less one with such a pretty barmaid.

 

x 

 

Lucy had woken up from the best sleep she’d ever had, a full twelve hours, remarkably refreshed, utterly famished and nigh-bristling in fury.

 

“What do you mean they left?!” The five-year-old wasn’t one to often engage in full sentences, as they sapped energy better spent on shutting out the voices or eating food, but this was a special occasion. “He was  _ my _ pirate!”

 

Makino-nee looked puzzled by the declaration, to which Lucillia barely held back a scowl. She loved her older sister, truly, but she was such a clueless  _ adult _ sometimes. “ _ Your _ pirate, Lucy?”

 

“My pirate.” He was wearing a hat like hers, so it must be her pirate. The dark-haired girl reached out to adjust the brim of her own red ribboned straw hat, a little crushed beneath her fingertips but still in good condition. Normally she would switch between straw hats but this one matched the one the pirate wore, so she liked it best. “Name?”

 

“Akagami Shanks,” Makino answered, shifting to amusement. “I don’t think Garp would be very pleased that you have your own pirate.”

 

This gave the dark-haired girl pause. She shuddered a little at the prospect of her Gramp’s loud, booming voice shouting up at the world. It hadn’t ever been focused on her before but even as a spectator, it could be scary. “Don’t care.”

 

It might even light a fire under his butt and get him to Foosha quicker. All the better then.

 

“Where?” Makino understood this as easily as she did everything else and explained that the pirates had sailed away under cover of dusk, to towns unknown, though they  _ had _ settled the bar tab. That made them one of the better classes of pirates in nee-chan’s mind and only made Lucy pout harder. Her Gramps wasn’t here and neither was her pirate… life was terrible and she hated everybody. 

 

“Do you want barbecue for dinner?” Except her nee-chan. Makino was the best.

 

“Yes, please.” Manners got her bigger portions, so Lucillia had learnt to use them quickly. Once she was done eating, she regretfully shook her head to an evening of crayons, head beginning to dizzily spin with the voices starting again, and scampered upstairs. All of that wonder and excitement of the morning had drained out of her, stolen away with the same pirates in the dead of night, and now the Lord of the Coast was wailing about its friend, the squirrels were talking about the nuts they’d gather for winter and some creepy voice was gleefully screaming as it jumped down a cliff.

 

_ ‘I want Gramps.’  _ Her pirate would have been a good consolation prize, as she crawled into the bed, burrowed under Makino’s homemade quilts and covered her ears. The words and phrases and numbers were buzzing around her brain, a medley of sounds that didn’t make any sense without context and that she couldn’t swat away. _ ‘I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you… the song from earlier, what was it? Yo-hohoho, yo-hohoho, yo-hohoho, yo-hohoho, hoist the Jolly Roger high, pirates are challenging the sea, the wind blows, to where, who knows? There’s a port and sunny skies aheeaad!’ _

 

The five-year-old didn’t know all of the words but the jaunty tune was pleasant and she liked humming in and filling words she did know. At some point, it may have included phrases from the Marine’s battle anthem- also known as the only lullaby Gramps could sing- thrown in. 

 

‘ _ Rays of sunshine far and wide… blow the cannons, men!... Standing proud and tall, the voyage never ends! Toss the rope, prepare the bay, don’t you cry, our memories remain… against the storm, upon these foamy seas, we’ll protect them from all the scourges there may be! Says I, you ol’ bastard, I’ll be damned if I do, and the whores all threw their legs up high-’ _

 

Also a few dirty sea shanties and maybe a miner’s work song. Lucillia didn’t know where the wind got all of these strange things but they ended up in her ears eventually. 

 

When the five-year-old was done singing an ode that would offend Marines and pirates alike, she stuck her scruffy head out of the blankets and surveyed her domain. It was the second-biggest bedroom in a house that boasted five, with walls painted a warm, buttery yellow to soothe her down. Everything in the room was designed for her comfort and safety, really, from the padded birch furniture, too heavy to move, to the sky blue carpet, plush enough to fall down on, to the large bay window, with thick white curtains to shield her from the light. The view of the ocean from her room was breathtaking, not that she often felt at peace enough to sit and enjoy it. Bookcases stuffed to the brim with children’s storybooks lined one entire wall, while next to them, was a giant cubby-shelf was neatly shuffled with toys from around the world. Lucy had more than any four kids would need because Gramps was a guilt-shopper.

 

_ ‘Wonder if I can fill another toybox this time?’  _ It had been over eight months since his last visit, so Lucy could safely assume at least a dozen new toys and games that she wouldn’t play with. Not that she didn’t like the bright colors and dazzling lights but… well, no, she didn’t like them. They made her head hurt. There was enough sound in her world without adding more. 

 

Lucillia had already had plenty of sleep so far- and it felt splendid, in a way she had never experienced before- but this was the time of day, shortly before bed, that she put her snail-phones on. A set of headphones connected to a baby recorder snail tuned to ‘comfort’ noises to drown her out, like white noise, falling raindrops or, and Makino-nee had recorded it as a joke that ended up surprisingly effective, her heartbeat. She crawled out of bed and tickled the baby snail, Heartstomper (Makino-nee  _ did _ promise she could name him) awake. Then she put it over her ears and turned the dial to one of her favorite background noises: wind through a bamboo field.

 

With that added safety net, she cocooned herself back in bed, contemplated picking up a book and then dismissed it. The dark-haired girl had a budding emotion inside of her, a nervous whirl of energy that she couldn’t quite name that made her feel… jittery. Like she wanted to jump up and go running again, which was crazy, because she’d already behaved so recklessly once today. Makino-nee had been too happily surprised by her impromptu nap to scold her overmuch but she knew that her reprieve wouldn’t extend that far, should the dark-haired girl try again. It would be bad for her health.

 

Lucillia needed to be  _ careful. _

 

It was something she had heard, every day of her life, if not in those exact words than in the sentiments of those around her. Lucy was small, weak, delicate-  _ broken _ , she’d once thought,  _ say it. Just say I’m broken, don’t be scared _ \- fragile, and she shouldn’t risk herself doing the normal things all of the other children did. Not that Foosha had many children but those few that they did have didn’t go through life swaddled and cosseted, looked over and protected as Lucy did. 

 

Not everyone, Lucillia could acknowledge, was as cherished as she was.

 

And that was sad. She heard children crying in the wind sometimes, men screaming and women begging but she couldn’t help them. She didn’t know who they were or what they were scared of or where the screams came from (or why anyone would hurt them. Who hurts a child?). The world was a scary place but it wasn’t scary here, in Dawn Island, where Makino-nee would play with her and Gramps would protect her from far away. They wouldn’t let her go out on adventures or try anything dangerous but she didn’t need to, when this perfectly structured world was made for her. Lucy had wanted to go out on adventures anyway, just like the heroes in her stories, but… she didn’t  _ need _ to.

 

Lucillia  _ needed _ to be careful.

 

Her fits could strike at any moment and if she wasn’t under her older sister’s eye or in a safe room, anything could happen. She could fall and hit her head. Or drown, or cut herself, or burn her skin, or break a limb, or get mauled by a wild animal; there was a long list of ways she could die. But today, she had ran all the way through the village, down to the cove by the beach, over a trail of loose, sifting boulders and… and nothing had happened. Lucy was fine. She had even met a pirate and lived to tell the tale!

 

‘ _ Of how I fainted.’ _ Lucy sweat dropped. When she wrote the story down later, she’d have to think of something more epic.  _ ‘I’m still fine though.’ _

 

Lucillia was fine and more than that, she was  _ happy _ . Even as the voices whispered back in her ear, a jumble of words in a North Blue accent, over the sound of fireworks in the air, and a lover’s confession, Lucy was pleased. She had gone on one short-lived adventure and survived. That meant she could do it again.

 

She took a moment from her self-congratulation to wince in sympathy. ‘ _ What an awful proposal, no wonder he got rejected. Who starts off a love poem talking about someone’s big eyebrows? _ ’

 

x 

 

_ Lucy will not be using the Gomu Gomu no Mi! While it’s an awesome fruit, I want to explore other directions for her and will leave this open to decide what fruit she should eat. Any of the three types, Zoan, Paramecia and Logia are acceptable, as long as someone else hasn’t already eaten that fruit. You can make up your own one too, provided a detailed description is added to work off with, and I’ll credit you for that. Also more Shanks in the next chapter! _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

 

Makino closed her small notebook and placed it, and the pen, back into her apron pocket. It was a slow day at the bar, allowing the young woman to take inventory with occasional peeks to the center stool in the room. Her little sister was sitting there, legs dangling, chin resting against old-grained wood, hands cupped forward and a grasshopper held between them. She’d been whispering nonsense words to the animal for well over an hour now. It was a deviation from her normal behavior, as Lucy typically avoided animals like the plague but there had been a number of odd actions undertaken by the Monkey since the pirate came. Most of them, Makino felt, were for the better. 

 

The dark-haired girl always had flares of an independence streak rising and falling like the ebb and flow of the tides but the Red-Haired Pirates seemed to have spurred her into a new lease on life. In the last few weeks, Lucy had insisted on accompanying Makino to the bar, even in the busy hours (hiding under a blanket and with her snail-phone admittedly), playing by the beach (the barmaid had to keep her from wandering off alone twice before agreeing to take her), shopping at the market (possibly to get her hands on as much meat as possible) and even interacting with the local children. 

 

The last one hadn’t gone well. Lucy had been roped into a ball game at first but without much experience, her hand-eye coordination and speed fell below par. That could probably have been accepted but then midway through the game, the five-year-old had curled on the grass, hands clasped over her ears, shaking from a fit and Makino had had to intervene when a particularly insensitive child tried to draw on her skin. That was the last time her sister insisted on playing with the others.

 

Her latest obsession was to find animals, particularly insects, unable to run away from her and trap them in her hands for an extended period of time. At first, Lucillia hadn’t been all that mindful of the animal’s health and well-being but after Makino showed her how, she’d become very gentle with them. She claimed that the animals were talking to her and while the barmaid wasn’t sure if she believed that, it was a peaceful and rather adorable way for Lucy to pass the time.

 

“Time for lunch, Lucy. Go and wash your hands.” The Monkey briefly made a face and then lifted her elbows in silent request. Makino hooked her hands Lucy’s arms and pulled the girl down, where she walked outside to let the grasshopper leave. “Okonomiyaki or stir fry?”

 

Lucy made another face. “Meat.”

 

“You can’t have meat every day.” Makino was unmoved by the protruding bottom lip or widened ink-toned eyes. “We had gyudon yesterday.”

 

“Growing.” Despite her dislike of the meal, the dark-haired girl scampered to the back sink.

 

“Round perhaps, if you continue to eat just meat,” the barmaid answered. “Did the grasshopper say anything interesting?”

 

“Wheat crops,” Lucy offered. “Hide from birds. There’s lots.”

 

“We are having unusually warm weather,” Makino noted, mentally noting that more fabric would have to be purchased for sundresses. “Finish the vegetable stir fry, Lucy, and I’ll make taikyoku for dinner.”

 

Perking up, the child brought the plate closer to herself and then proceeded to devour it with unseemly haste. Lucy’s every meal was eaten as though it was her last but through time, effort and much withholding of the precious meat, Makino had convinced her to at least finish without throwing half-chewed bits and pieces everywhere from an open mouth. It was still a grotesquely mystifying to watch Lucy eat though. A thrown broccoli snagged from the air by sharp teeth, a towering plate of food rapidly depleting, a full open jaw in an otherwise sweet, docile little girl… she was definitely Garp’s granddaughter, no one could deny that.

 

“That’s one hell of an appetite, Anchor.” A male voice from the door drew their attention and Makino looked over to find that the handsome pirate from before had returned. His crew were behind him but not all of them appeared to be present as they meandered in. “Where does it all go?”

 

Lucy hallowed in her cheeks to suck in another carrot, stuffed the remaining amount in her mouth and then jumped off the stool. By nature, Makino reached out to steady her, thankfully just in time, as her sudden movement had her stumble and nearly trip onto the floor. Not waiting to regain her bearings, the dark-haired girl shot over to the red-haired pirate. “In my stomach, silly!” 

 

_ ‘Lucy willingly interacting with strangers?’  _ The barmaid’s heart unexpectedly warmed, as her little sister demanded to know where the nickname had come from. Shanks laughingly referred to her sudden bout of swooning when they first met, to which Lucy turned the vivid red of a bell pepper.

 

“Not swooning! Too many voices!” Lucy’s words were outraged but when she opened her mouth to continue her rant, something unusual occured. The little girl blanched, shock, then realization, then a sudden sort of wonder crossing her face, widening her eyes to owlish appearance, as she gaped soundlessly at the pirate. 

 

“Lucy?” Assuming it to be another fit, Makino walked over and knelt down before her, the handsome pirate stepping back with an intrigued glance. “Lucillia? Listen to my voice, can you hear me?”

 

‘ _ Her eyes are strangely focused for a fit,’  _ the barmaid thought absently, ‘ _ She’s not shaking either…? _ ’

 

“I-” Lucy drew in a sharp, short breath. “I- I-”

 

The dark-haired girl’s eyes were wildly flicking about the room, before settling on Shanks. Makino put her hands on thin and bony shoulders to steady them but for once, Lucy didn’t seem to need her to. There wasn’t any sway to her posture at all. “ _ I can’t hear them.” _

 

_ ‘Is she talking about the wind again?’ _ Makino kept her voice level and calm. “What do you mean?”

 

“Neechan… he made the wind be quiet,” Lucy marvelled quietly. She shook her head and addressed Akagami Shanks directly. “How did you  _ do _ that?”

 

x 

 

Sadly for Lucy, she couldn’t get an answer to her query, not least because the red-haired pirate didn’t seem to understand her question. He’d laughed off her odd comments, while not bothering to hide the curiosity in his eyes, and ordered another round of drinks for his crewmates. It upset the child but not for long. While Akagami Shanks didn’t know why he stilled the voices in her head, the point was that he _ did _ , just like Gramps. More importantly, he had many stories of the wide, wide world to share with her, was a born storyteller and kept visiting the Partys Bar. Lucy presumed it had something to do with the pretty smile Makino-nee would give him each time, so took the additional measure of informing the notorious pirate that her sister was absolutely single and available.

 

Of course, she’d also tell Gramps that a famous pirate was making her older sister laugh and blush. Lucy liked the man but when it came to Makino-nee, it’d be best to keep the pirate on his toes.

 

“Above that were worms as fat as my fist,” Shanks said enthusiastically, raising one tanned hand in the air to show her, “Over a foot long and as stretchy as rubber! We tied them to the boulders on the mountain and bungee jumped down to the lake with butterfly nets to catch the flying fish there!”

 

“Wow!” Lucy peered up with shining eyes. “How many did you catch?”

 

“A whole bathtub full! Literally! Dahahaha!” Shanks threw his head back with a booming laugh, the sort that had her big sister peek over with a red tinge on her cheeks. “Turns out Lucky Roo carrying one up there was worth it. We grilled them with pepper paste and sake and had ourselves a party!”

 

Most adventures, Lucillia had learnt quickly, ended up with a party and lots of sake. She personally approved of this as sake was Shanks’ meat and there was never a bad time to have a lot of meat. If she was a pirate,  _ she’d _ throw a party every day.

 

“Did you find the Hornet Queen’s treasure?”

 

“Yep! A haul of bee combs filled with the sweetest honey you’d ever see. The bees ate exclusively from the apple blossoms on the island, so it was a light pink-gold color. The nobles were crazy for it,” Shanks chuckled. “We made a good profit off of that one and then blew most of it at Shakky’s Bar.”

 

Off to the side, Benn Beckman muttered something unflattering about witches and their sky high price gouging. A little girl on an orange farm sneezed.

 

Lucy felt a familiar and unwelcome spike of pain in her head, so she closed her eyes swiftly. Rather than darkness appearing behind her clenched eyelids, it was a dash of luminescent green marble shaped into a giant cream puff tower. It disappeared as soon as it had arrived and the dark-haired girl blearily blinked her eyes clear.

 

“How view top?” Were the first words out of her mouth. Her lips twisted into a pout when Shanks looked back cluelessly, not as gifted in Lucy-speak as Makino-nee was. He hadn’t needed to practice it much either. The voices dimming around him meant that Lucy spoke in full sentences more often and that Makino took every opportunity to drop the little girl on a bar stool next to him. “The view at the top of the bar’s tower? Did you like it there?”

 

Akagami Shanks took the question in stride. “I did! It’s not that high but it gives you a great view of the bubbles around the archipelago. You have all of this sunlight streaming through, making it look like rainbows are everywhere. The nickname for Sabaody used to be Rainbow Island before the tourist board decided that it didn’t sound exciting enough.”

 

Lucy nodded in understanding. Rainbows were pretty but if she had such a huge, amazing world open to her, then they wouldn't be the first thing she’d see. Instead, it’d be… “Go to Wano?”

 

Once, only once did Lucy hear the wind speak to someone other than her. Or at least she thought she did. It was in one of Gramp’s rare trips home, where Lucy was half-buried in his giant Marine coat, as he sat back by the fireplace and enjoyed a pint of ale with Old Man Woop Slap and Makino-nee. She’d been semi-conscious then, almost ready to fall asleep due to the warmth, her full stomach and the blessed  _ quiet _ but also resisting because she hadn’t seen Gramps in forever. They were talking about something, she couldn’t remember now but Lucy had wanted to be a big girl and talk about it too. To accomplish that, she’d done something she’d never done before… Lucy  _ tried _ to listen to the wind.

 

Lucillia had kept her ears wide open and closed her eyes and instead of shutting everything out, desired  _ fiercely  _ for the wind to talk to her. It worked. Sort-of. Her ears got all fuzzy and her eyes burned a little bit and then the wind spoke again but it was alien and strange and not to her. It was distant. It was far away. It was to a man named Kozuki Oden in Wano.

 

“Kozuki Oden?” Lucy asked too, because it was a big world but if the wind had taught her anything, it was that people found their way to each other eventually anyway. Shanks was more than just a normal pirate. He had to be. Gramps was strong and important and made the voices go away, so if Shanks could do the same, he must also be strong and important too. There weren’t so many of those people in the world that the few who were didn’t know each other.

 

Her hunch was proven correct when those eyes widened considerably and a grin crossed the man’s features. “Oden, huh? Haven’t heard that name in years…”

 

“You know him,” Lucy pestered. 

 

“I did.” A nostalgic smile crossed the pirate’s face. “He was a member of my old crew. We sailed together for some time until he settled down to… uh, take over the family business.”

 

“What’s that?” 

 

“Bossing people around,” Shanks chuckled. The contemplative look was back on his face, tinged minutely with concern. “Hey, Lucy… you sure know a lot of interesting things.”

 

The dark-haired girl nodded. This was true. 

 

“Do you talk about those interesting things to other people?”

 

She looked at him pointedly. “Other than me and… let’s say, Makino-san.”

 

“Gramps.” At the word, Akagami Shanks, as well as any members of his crew within earshot, which composed of his right hand man, Benn Beckman, his sniper, Yassop and his navigator, Lucky Roo, shuddered. Shortly after finding out that Lucy was Garp the Fist’s granddaughter, Shanks drew up a written statement in red crayon and had the five-year-old sign her name to prove the claim that the pirates hadn’t done anything harmful to her during their visits. 

 

“Forgot about him,” Shanks moaned. “Ah, well, nothing for it then. Curse my bleeding heart.”

 

“Captain, no!” Benn swiftly put his drink down and moved close enough to grab the red-haired man’s shoulders. “Don’t be so reckless!”

 

“This has to be done, Benn! I’ll hate myself if I don’t do it!”

 

“Even then, she’s far too young!”

 

“There’s no other choice! Someone has to teach her to control her gift!”

 

“The journey to Wano could kill her sooner than the gift itself! Not to mention Garp the Fist…”

 

“Don’t let your fear control you, Benn! Are we not men eternally challenging the sea?!”

 

Lucillia left the two men to passionately argue about… whatever they were arguing about, as she spun her stool around. It was pretty clear that storytime was over and she wouldn’t be getting anything good about Wano out of Shanks today. It was a shame but there was a soft whisper in her ear, far easier to shrug off than the normal sounds, pulling her to a treasure chest near the back. Not in the least bit concerned that it wasn’t hers, Lucy climbed up to the old-grained table and opened the chest. 

 

If she’d been expecting shining jewels or pink honey- which she had been- she would have been disappointed. As it was, Lucy looked at a plum purple fruit full of swirls and just wrinkled her nose. “Uck.”

 

Plums were for old people. The wind tugged at her ear, whispering a name.  _ Gomu Gomu no Mi. The rubber devil fruit. _

 

_ ‘Mystery fruit? _ ’ Lucy sat across from the fruit and contemplated it silently. She didn’t like plums but mystery fruits were mysterious. They could take like any matter of things. What if they tasted mysteriously delicious and she missed out because it was a bright plum color? What if it tasted like grapes? Lucy liked grapes.

 

She took a stab at it and sent the question to the winds.  _ Does it taste like grapes? _

 

There wasn’t a specific word back but she got the general impression that the answer was no.

 

The dark-haired girl tentatively reached out and touched it. 

 

_ Rubbery hands stretching as far as the eye could see. Legs coiled up like springs to jump higher than trees. Stretched out into a narrow thin flesh to slip past bars of a jail cell. Burned alive in magma. _

 

_ ‘Not even a rubber man can withstand the heat of Absolute Justice.’ _

 

The fruit slipped through slack fingers, making a soft thudding noise as it hit the board of wood and fell to the floor. Lucilla wrapped two narrow arms around herself, body wracked in shivers. That voice… it felt like it burned her. There was scorching hot fury in that voice, bloodlust barely held back by a sense of purpose, a demand given that was absolute and unyielding and  _ wrong.  _ Lucy hated it. She hated that voice and she knew nothing good would come of it.

 

The child heard footsteps coming closer.

 

“Lucy? Little Anchor?” Unlike Makino-nee, the red-haired pirate didn’t wait for her to look up or compose herself. Instead in one swift gesture she was pulled off of the bar and into strong arms, the suddenness of the movement surprisingly her into looking up to Shanks’ eyes. Unlike his typical nature, he seemed wholly serious as he looked at her now. Serious and not just a little panicked.

 

“Did you eat that fruit?” His voice at least was full of alarm. Not raised enough to scare her but Lucy shook her head hurriedly anyway.

 

The tight grip loosened a little. “Good. That was-”

 

“Devil fruit. Gomu Gomu no Mi.” She normally felt proud to provide answers like this, liked the startled looks of the adults often speaking down to her but all Lucy could feel then was tiredness. 

 

“Yes,” Shanks swallowed tightly and then asked the last question she’d ever have expected from him. “Lucy… do you want to be pirate?”

 

x

 

_ I’ve finally settled on Lucy’s devil fruit! It’ll be another Mythical Zoan, which honestly, I think I’m starting to have a thing for. They just have an incredible versatility of powers attached to them, as well as fun myths to explore inside battle and out, and don’t have that instant power up of Logias. If I’d had to rank my preferred fruits in order, it’d be Mythical Zoan, Paramecia, Zoan and Logia.  _

 

_ The Batto Batto no Mi will introduce Vampire Lucillia to One Piece! You can expect enhanced strength, speed and reflexes, as well as a bat transformation, limited teleportation, minor echolocation and a bastardization of healing powers via sucking out people’s life forces. Outside of battle will feature a grown Ace used to wrangling his sharp-toothed, pale-skinned girlfriend from biting his neck, almost casually, since she doesn't suck out his life energy but instead just enjoys doing so. There will also be a big, black cape that she regularly trips over outside of battle, Nami dragging a sleepy-eyed, hissing Lucy out of her bed and into the sunlight and a coffee addiction. So Much Coffee. _

 

_ Also adopting Luffy’s Strong World outfit for Lucy’s sake with a blood red shirt, black slacks, a loose black tie, a full cape/coat, sandals and of course, her infamous straw hat.  _


End file.
